A quilt is a tapestry of fabric pieces that when sewn together create a personal masterpiece. The beauty of each quilt is in taking seemingly unrelated pieces and turning them into a work of art. A quilt can also be the timeless bond between young women who experienced something rare during our formative years that forever stitched us to one another. This is the story of Mary’s quilt, which was crafted nearly 40 years ago during my formative teenage years of swimming.

Mary’s quilt was woven out of friendship and of hard work, of goal-setting and of sisterhood. And at the center of the quilt was Craig McConnell, our high school swimming coach. Craig was like no other coach; he not only trained you physically, but believed in the power of positive thinking and mental preparation and instilled in us a deep respect for team. He read us Jonathan Livingston Seagull poolside, had us practice visualization, used coffee cans filled with cement for barbells (when weights were not available) and set personal goals for all his swimmers. He was the master quilter of my poolside peers and instilled in all of us the deep values of belonging to a team. Belonging and having one goal bonded us through the thousands of laps we swam alongside each other. Whether it was the monotony of swimming 100 x 100’s on the 1:30 or the joy of taper time, we all endured it together as we sought the holy grail of “PBOP UTWAL,” “Celebrate the Sun,” “186 and Closing Fast” or “Ring Those Chimes.”

For when you have a team like we did, time does not decay the bond. And so the team spirit rose up once again just a few short months ago when one of our teammates shared with us that Mary was very ill, struggling with the side effects of cancer treatment. As a former oncology nurse, Laurie thought of two things that could help Mary – the strength of team and the comfort of a quilt. The beauty of today’s technology is that it was only minutes before social media had us all planning the logistics of the quilt. Before I knew it, an overnight delivery arrived on my doorstep. I quickly opened the package with a rare anticipation. Unfurling the quilt, handmade by Laurie’s mom, I paused first to say a prayer for Mary and then to give thanks for the renewed sense of team that had been awakened through this extraordinary gift. As I signed the material with fabric paint, I saw the love that went into not only the quilt, but the packaging, pens, the extra mailer and the list of where to sent it next. As if still a member of a relay, I packaged up the quilt within minutes and rushed to the post office to get the gift on its way to the next name on the list. And so Mary’s quilt was shipped across the country to teammates near and far, with one goal of reaching Mary in her time of need.

The quilt shipping schedule planned to reach Mary’s younger sister, Rose as the last address. Rose would then hand deliver it to Mary later that week. But, shortly after the quilt reached Rose, we learned that our Mary had unexpectedly passed away. Sadness enveloped me because Mary was gone so quickly. And then I thought about the wonderful quilt of love and encouragement we had collectively crafted. A gift too late that Mary would never receive.

At Mary’s funeral, her brother’s eulogy included Mary’s cherished relationships with her teammates. That feeling was mutual. Although Mary’s race on earth is finished, her Irish spirit remains to help guide us all. Rose shared with me that she recently visited Mary’s home, where she saw our quilt draped over a comfortable chair by the fireplace. It now brings comfort to Mary’s family. For that is what quilts do best. Rest in peace dear Mary.

When one is part of an overwhelming experience, it is hard to know or where to start or to sum it up in a few words or stories. I now understand a bit how my son Owen must have felt when he returned from a semester studying abroad in Patagonia. As I hugged him at the O’Hare baggage claim, I wanted him to start sharing everything about his adventures, but instead, there was initially not much spoken. It was enough just to ‘be’ for him. We eagerly awaited stories that unfolded the following days and weeks as the hundreds of photos helped him share his journey and its’ impact on his life.

So, when I crossed the finish line at last weekend’s Avon 2-Day Breast Cancer walk, the completion was bitter sweet. My mind raced…the exhilaration of completing a lofty goal, the physical fatigue of finishing 39.3 miles of walking in two days, the emotional exhaustion of the experience with 3,000 other walkers and the joy of seeing my family there to support me as I walked the last steps through the pink arch.

The finish line was a bit backed up, so people had to wait their turn. The group that finished the walk just before me must have pre-planned an arm-locking routine to cross the finish line together. I took the photo because it captured how I felt. Their image is emblazoned in my memory. The fact that this group is nameless and we can’t see their faces is particularly moving for me. It illustrates our society’s ongoing fight with breast cancer. We need to work together to find better prevention strategies, drugs, radiation techniques, therapies and support systems. Nobody should be left to navigate or endure cancer alone.

At the final rest stop, I did a superman ‘costume change’ in the cramped and well-used port-o-let. I purposefully pulled on my cotton Avon walk T-shirt that had been signed by my sponsors. I had started the walk with the shirt on so wanted to finish full circle. The signatures were my ‘team’ that walked with me spiritually. Their support (or the buzz of their texts of encouragement) fueled me in a way that rest stops could not. When I thought about quitting at mile 12 the first day after a slight calf pull (or riding in a sweep vehicle), the ‘team’ cheered me on. When I felt pain, I imagined what cancer patients go through every day and my temporary plight seemed to lessen. Yes, my body was only a team of one, but every signature on the shirt walked alongside me and crossed the finish line with me.

So, as I am still decompressing from the event and what it meant to me, I’ll mull over what to write about it for future blogs. There are enough ideas and content to keep me busy for quite some time. The journey continues and there are new goals to be set. But for now, I’ll enjoy some time on the front porch catching up with all the loose ends in my life and basking in the glow of being part of a movement profoundly bigger than I.